My Place In This World
by doodlegirll
Summary: After the death of her grandfather, Krys comes to realize just how much he helped shape who she is. .:Songfic. Rated for character death:.


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Okay, it is seriously late here (I'd rather not say _how _late...) and I really need to get to bed because I have youth class at nine thirty in the morning, so I'm going to make this short.

**Tonight, I was listening to the Michael W. Smith song, _My Place in this World_, and I got to thinking about my grandmother, who passed away on Thanksgiving of 2006, and how she helped me find my place in this world. I recently decided to minor in music in college (majoring in pharmacy), and my Gran was the one who always inspired me to keep moving forward, and find my place in the path God has laid out for me. **

**So I wrote this. It just came to me about two hours ago, and here it is. :)**

**Hope you enjoy! **

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**My Place in this World**

_Plot: After the death of her grandfather, Krys comes to realize just how much he helped shape who she is. Songfic._

...oOo...

_The wind is moving  
__But I am standing still  
__A life of pages  
__Waiting to be filled_

"He's…gone."

The horrible words rang through Krys never thought she would hear rand through her head as she stared at the wall of her bedroom. The nineteen year old blinked, her face unchanging. Her glasses laid on her desk in front of her, where she had sat them hours before when she had first heard the awful news.

Carl was the one who had broken the news to her. He, Tallulah, and six year old Nickolas had come home to tell the family that wasn't with him at the hospital. Franny, Cassie, and Wilbur had remained by his side, while he, Tallulah, and their son waited outside in the hallway. Cassie had broken the news to them, and they had promised to relay the message to Krys and the rest of the family.

"I'm sorry, kiddo." Carl said, looking at her. "He's…gone."

_A heart that's hopeful  
__A head that's full of dreams  
__But this becoming  
__Is harder than it seems_

It had been an accident.

Everyone who knew Cornelius Robinson always said he would die doing what he loved.

No one really ever knew the truth of their own words.

Cornelius had been working on his latest prototype, an upgrade to the time machine that would allow the time machines to simply fade into a different time instead of having to use the fuel and fly. It would act a lot like the cloaking system; the time machine would jump times as easily as it was hidden with its invisibility.

Unfortunately, something had gone horribly, horribly wrong. Instead of warping like Cornelius wanted, it had simply blow up.

Carl had witnessed everything. He had come running out of the lab, waving his hands above his head, calling desperately for help. Krys had heard his cries from her room and came to his aid. Carl had told her to find Franny and her father, and to call the hospital as soon as possible. Krys had tried to calm him down to where he could tell her what was wrong, but Carl would hear nothing of it, and only told her Cornelius was hurt, so Krys ran off to find her father and grandmother.

The emergency team had showed up not five minutes later, and finally Carl told the family what had happened. The emergency team had had him go with them, since Carl's memory banks were a vital clue as to how to treat Cornelius's wounds, which were a few minor burns to the arm and a large concussion, as it seemed.

Carl, Franny, and Wilbur had gone along with the emergency team to the hospital, Cassie, Lucille, and Tallulah in tow, leaving Krys and the others to wait painfully for word as to whether or not her grandfather would be okay.

_Feels like I'm  
__Looking for a reason  
__Roaming through the night to find  
__My place in this world  
__My place in this world_

So Krys and the others had waited, finally hearing from her father later that night around eight.

Cornelius had second degree burns on his right arm, which he had put up to his face to protect himself. He had a fairly large concussion, but it was the internal bleeding that was the doctor's largest obstacle. Wilbur didn't know anything other than they were trying their best, and had instructed his family to pray.

And pray they did.

They prayed and waited for another five hours, when Cassie called with news that Cornelius was out of surgery.

He was stable for the time being, but doctors, even with their advanced technologies and combined skills, were not sure what his future looked like. All they knew was that they had done what they could, and that was all.

_Not a lot to lean on  
__I need your light to help me find  
__My place in this world_

For the next week, Krys (who had taken an family emergency leave from her college there in town where she was studying music after already graduating from a technology school two years before at age seventeen) and her enormous family had crammed into Cornelius's small hospital room. Cornelius was awake and attentive, and was happy to see everyone, his son and granddaughter especially. His parents were especially happy to see their only son doing well considering his condition, and when asked how he was feeling, Cornelius always replied with his son's favorite line.

"That is an excellent question."

_My place in this world_

But suddenly, Cornelius wasn't so fine, and his answer changed dramatically. He got acute headaches, and suddenly his chest felt as if it were on fire. Doctors did an emergency test on him to find that the internal bleeding they thought they had stopped had not stopped at all, and was spreading fast.

It was already too late.

Franny was distraught from the moment she was told the awful news, and while he seemed alright, Wilbur was as well. His serious façade didn't fool those close to him like they did the doctors.

Cornelius had also been informed, though he had told his wife and son later that he already knew something wasn't right, and that he would not be going home, or to Robinson Industries, or the TCTF again. He assured them it was going to be alright, that he had lived a full seventy-seven years, and that he was ready.

But that didn't mean his family was.

_If there are millions  
__Down upon their knees  
_

Krys was snapped out of her fixation with the wall by someone knocking softly on her door. Jess, Krys's beloved pet lioness, looked up from her place on the rug.

"Come in." Krys called, her voice clouded with grief and scratchy from crying. She slid her glasses onto her nose and turned around in her chair to face the door.

Krys's father poked his head in her room, sliding in and closing the door behind him as he did. He didn't look any better than Krys herself. His eyes were red from obvious crying, and his hair was a little messy, his cowlick slightly ruffled. He took a deep breath and was about to say something when Krys beat him to it.

"Hey, Dad." She said.

"Hey." Wilbur answered. "Are you alright? You've been in here since…uh…"

"Since Carl told me, I know." Krys said. "I'm sorry I haven't come out or anything. It's just…" Tears welled in her eyes. "I can't believe he's gone."

Wilbur walked over to his now grown daughter and wrapped his arms around her. Krys buried her head in his chest and let the tears out, soaking his black shirt. Suddenly it was like she was seven years old again, and she had fallen off her hoverboard and scraped her knee. She had run to her father for comfort, and he had calmed her to the best of his ability as she cried into his shoulder.

"Sh, it's okay." Wilbur soothed, stroking her hair. "Krys, it's alright."

"Why did he have to go?" Krys sobbed. "Why Grandad?"

"It was just his time." Wilbur said, his own voice betraying the fact that he, too, was about to cry. "You know as well as I do how time works. We only have so much of it."

Krys continued to cry. "I don't care!" She said. "I'll go back in time! Make sure this never happened! He shouldn't have had to go through that! The doctors said he was going to be okay! They said he was going to make a complete recovery! And now he's gone!" At this sudden burst of rage, Krys pounded her fist against her father's chest. Wilbur flinched in pain; Krys was strong.

"Krys, you can't do that." He said. "It was just his time."

"I don't care!" Krys said, pounding her fist again. "It's not fair! It's just not fair!"

Wilbur's arms tightened around his only child as her five foot six frame shook with sobs. Finally, Wilbur could no longer hold them in himself. He forgot all pride, and he, too, let the tears fall.

"I know, Krys." He said softly. "I know."

_Among the many  
__Can you still hear me?_

After about ten minutes, Krys had cried all the tears she could. She stepped out of her father's embrace and wiped her eyes, as well as her fogged glasses on her jacket. She sniffed, and blinked back the few last tears she had left in her tear ducts.

"Are you going to be alright?" Wilbur asked. Krys swallowed.

"I think so." She said. "It's just…I don't know; it doesn't seem possible that he's gone, you know?"

Wilbur nodded. "It seems like only yesterday he was giving us both the pep talk of the century on how we shouldn't stay up late watching Late Night Scary Movies when he tried to warn us those movies from the twentieth century were actually quite scary, thought we laughed and said they wouldn't be." He grinned. "I had nightmares about that giant brain for weeks."

Krys laughed, despite the current situation. She remembered quite clearly her mother making Wilbur sleep on the couch until his nightmares subsided.

"I remember that!" She said. "You were on sleep talking overload! The family had to sleep with earplugs the entire time, though we could still hear you!"

The two laughed again before going quiet.

"Your grandfather left you Robinson Industries." Wilbur said finally. "He knew how much you loved inventing."

Krys was slightly taken aback by this. Yes, of course she loved to invent. She was a Robinson, after all. But Robinson Industries? Her grandfather had left her his legacy to carry on?

"Me?" She asked.

Wilbur nodded. "You." He said.

"I never thought that…" Krys said. "Wow."

"He wanted you to have it." Wilbur said. "He said that if anyone could keep Robinson Industries alive, it would be you."

Krys blinked. "I will." She said finally. "I won't let Grandad down."

Wilbur smiled and hugged his daughter again. "He was proud of you, Krys. He still is. I know he is. He loved you very much."

"I know he did." Krys said, hugging her father back. "He loved you, too."

"I know he did."

After another minute, Wilbur and Krys stepped apart.

"There's some leftovers in the fridge if you want them." Wilbur informed her. "Carl told me to tell you in case you get hungry."

"Oh. Thanks." Krys said. The last thing on her mind at the moment was food.

"I'm going to find Grandma, Grandpa, and Mom." Wilbur declared. "We're going to the funeral home tomorrow to get everything…settled."

Krys nodded. "Okay, Dad." She said. "Thanks…You know, for everything."

Wilbur smiled again. "No problem, Krys." He said. "I'll be in the living room if you need me."

"Okay."

With that, Wilbur turned and walked back outside, closing the door behind him.

_Hear me asking  
__Where do I belong?  
__Is there a vision  
__I can call my own?_

Krys sat down again after her father left.

Robinson Industries.

Her grandfather had left her Robinson Industries.

Krys blinked again, still slightly taken aback by Cornelius's undying faith that she could carry on what he had started.

Then again, he always had had confidence in Krys.

Throughout her teenage years, ever since she was fourteen, Krys and her father and grandfather's younger selves had been on many adventures together, their most recent being a trip through time to celebrate Krys's acceptance into her music school of choice two months ago. Wilbur had been driving, and had ended up getting them stranded in Russia in the middle of winter. They were lucky that Krys had stowed an extra thermal blanket in the back of the time machine, and the three had been able to huddle in order to stay warm until Lewis and Krys were able to get the time machine's engines started again.

When Lewis's fingers had gone completely numb from the cold, he had handed the job over to Krys, who had been sure she wouldn't be able to do it. Lewis had said he had confidence that she could, and she had ended up saving them all from certain hypothermia and frostbite.

Krys felt a few more tears run down her cheeks and she smiled.

"Thank you, Grandad." She said softly. "I won't let you down."

_Show me  
__I'm looking for a reason  
__Roaming through the night to find  
__My place in this world  
__My place in this world  
__Not a lot to lean on  
__I need your help to find  
__My place in this world  
__My place in this world_

Three days later, Krys, dressed in a dress for the first time in her life (even when she had gone back to Lewis and Franny and Wilbur and Cassie's weddings, she had worn her regular jeans, a nice shirt, and black Converse hightops, along with Wilbur, whom she inherited her love of the shoes from). She still brandished her favorite pair of black Converses, as did her father, and her short black hair was pulled back into a bun by her mother. She wore the gold G clef charm Franny had given her for her fourth birthday around her neck, and her TCTF transmitter watch. She sat in the front pew of the church with her parents, grandmother, and great-grandparents, who all sat in silence. Her father's arm was around her shoulders the entire time, until it came his time to give his speech, which during Cassie took his place.

Then it was Krys's turn. She, too, had prepared a speech as a farewell to Cornelius. She wanted everyone to know how much he had meant to her, and how much he had meant to her family.

"Hi." Krys said as she stepped up in front of the (large) crowd of people. "I'm Krystal Robinson, Cornelius's granddaughter. I just wanted to say that this man was a great inspiration to all that knew him. He loved people, which is probably why he was an inventor, to help them and to make the world a better place. He loved his family; my grandmother, my father, me. All of us.

"Grandad always used to say that no matter what, to keep moving forward. Grandad had been through a lot in his time. He was abandoned as a baby and adopted at age twelve by Bud and Lucille Robinson, who gave him the home he always wanted. He defied the odds and graduated college at age fourteen, and time traveled many times with his son, my dad, Wilbur; and me. He was my best friend throughout my life, and I'll never forget what he did for me.

"Grandad helped me find my place in this world. There were times when I was younger that I thought I couldn't invent anything because I just didn't have it in me, but Grandad always said, 'Krys, keep moving forward. Don't give up.' And you know what? I didn't.

Three days ago, soon after he died, my dad informed me that he left my Robinson Industries, saying that he had faith that I could keep it moving forward into the future. I've taken up the challenge, and I just wanted to say thank you, Grandad, for helping me find who I am. Thanks for being there to help me, to guide me. To be my friend.

"I'll keep moving forward."

Krys looked at the crowd, her eyes filling with tears.

"I'm currently in my sophomore year at the Todayland Academy for Music here in town, and I wrote a song for my grandfather. If it's alright, I'd like you all to hear it."

She looked at her family, who all smiled and nodded. She looked to her father, who, too, grinned and nodded.

"Go for it." He whispered.

Krys smiled. She took a deep breath and began to sing.

_I'm looking for a reason  
__Searching through the night to find  
__My place in this world  
__My place in this world  
__Not a lot to lean on  
__I need you light to help me find  
__My place in this world_

The crowd clapped softly at the end of her song, and Krys could see they were smiling. She looked back her family, who beamed back at her, her father especially.

Then, above the clapping of the crowd, Krys could have sworn she heard her grandfather laughing.

Krys smiled.

_My place in this world_

_**.:For Gr****an:.**_

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I hope you liked it, and I hope it wasn't too sad!

Please review!

-Robin


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